eflected Hulda, looking down in terror, "no one is
murdered yet, and I have another day of grace to wait for Levin."

* * * * *

"Cunnil McLane," said Patty Cannon, in his room that night, "what
interest have you in the quadroon gal an' Huldy, too? You don't want' em
both, Cunnil?"

"No, Aunt Patty. All my views are conservative. Quite so! Hulda I want
to reform and model to my needs. She'll ornament me. By taking the girl
Virgie from my niece Vesta, I desire to punish the latter for consenting
to the degradation of our family, and marrying the forester, Milburn.
She loves this quadroon; therefore, I want to deprive her of the girl:
Joe is to bring her to me, do you see?"

His face expressed the indifference he felt to Virgie's safety on the
way, and the coarse suggestion gave Patty Cannon her opportunity:

"Cunnil, there's but three in the house to-night; I am one."

"I am two, Patty."

"And three is purty Huldy, Cunnil!"

They looked at each other a few minutes in silence.

"There is two to one," said Patty Cannon, with a giggle. "We have no
neighbors that air not used to noises yer."

The silence was restored while the two products of men-dealing read each
other's countenances.

"I made a very conservative and liberal proposition to her, Patty, and
she insulted me, yet beautifully. But I owe her a grudge for it."

"Insulted you, Cunnil? The ongrateful huzzy! Can't you insult her back?
She never dared to disobey _me_. Her pride once broke down, she'll be
like other gals, I reckon."

"That's true, no doubt. But, Patty, haven't you a little remorse about
it, considering she's your grandchild?"

"My mother had none fur me, honey," the old woman chuckled, familiarly.

"What is that story I have heard something of, about your origin,
Patty?"

"I don't know no more about it, Cunnil, than a pore, ignorant gal would,
you know. I've hearn my grandfather was a lord. A gypsy woman enticed
his son and he married her. His father drove him from his door, an' his
wife fetched him on her money to Canady, where she went into the
smugglin' business at St. John's, half-way between Montreal and the
United States."

"And he was hanged there for assassinating a friend who detected him?"

"They says so, honey. Anyhow, he was hanged. We gals was beautiful. Says
mother: 'It's a hard world, but don't let it beat you, gals! Marry ef
you kin. Anyway, you must live, and you can't live off of wo